“You did. Because I played you along until it was too dead to print. And you’ve been waiting for a chance to make up for it ever since.”
I sat down at the table. “You’re doing a lot of talking without getting anything said. What the hell reason would I have for playing your name in this story?”
“It’d make nice headlines. And murder a Newark boatbuilder.”
“I’m not after that sort of headlines. For God’s sake, this is bigger than personalities. I’m building up a case to crack down on the whole layout. Your info will just be one minor cog. This is between you and me. Not another soul will ever know you’ve been here tonight.”
“Swear it?”
“On a stack of bibles.”
She grimaced. “I’ll have to trust you... much as I hate to.”
I pressed the button cutting in the dictograph. “Thank you, Janet. You work for the syndicate, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“How and when did you first break in with that mob?”
“You’ve already accused me of looking for a new thrill.” Her voice was bitter.
“Weren’t you?”
“At first. Until they had crooked me out of all the ready cash I could lay my hands on. I was foolish enough to sign a note one night. Stormy came to my hotel the next day.”
“Stormy?”
“Stormy Parker. He’s Sandra’s right hand man. He does all the dirty work in Miami.”
“Who is Sandra?”
“That’s the only name I know for her. I’ve only seen her once.”
“Who’s behind her?”
“She’s all there is. Or so I understand. She doesn’t mingle with her subordinates.”
“Where does she hang out?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who would?”
“Stormy, I suppose.”
“What was his purpose in coming to the hotel that next day?”
“To make some not-too-veiled threats to send the note with an explanation of it to my father if I didn’t pay up immediately.”
“You could have gotten money to pay it.”
“Not without telling father what it was for.”
“Gambling isn’t so terrible.”
She made a helpless gesture. “You know how dad and mother are. He’s a pillar of the Congregational Church, and she’s the militant leader of the Woman’s Movement to Suppress Wagering.”
“What alternative did he offer?”
“That I use the prestige of my name and position to bring them new clients.”
“And you agreed?”
“What else could I do? I didn’t see the harm in it. Most of my crowd gamble without any encouragement.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About three months.”
“When did you change your name to Mrs. Carhart and move to a cheaper hotel?”
“When... I began to learn some of the things that happened to the women I sent to that hell.”
“So you did finally find out?” I asked sarcastically.
She shuddered but said nothing.
“What did you finally get wise to that made you decide to stop?”
She wet her lips. “Don’t you know?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of guessing. A few facts will be a welcome change.”
“They suck the money from women and then blackmail them with threats of exposure to do shameful things for more money to pour into the fixed games.”
“Prostitution?”
She nodded.
“Say it,” I told her.
“They own several houses where they send some of the girls. Others, they introduce to selected men clients. Those who don’t have the nerve to resist blackmail, or...”
“Or the cowards who can’t stand the gaff and cut their throats to get out from under?”
She said, “Yes. Oh God! yes. I couldn’t help it, Ed. I didn’t know at first. I thought it was just an ordinary gambling house. I didn’t mean to do any harm. I just wanted to make enough back to pay the note so my folks wouldn’t know. But Stormy wouldn’t give me the note back. I kept getting in deeper. They tried to drive me onto the street and I told them I’d rather die first. They must have believed me, for they let me go on the other way. I’ve been taking men lately. I’m supposed to get a commission on what they lose. I urge them to make high bets and Stormy doesn’t pay me my commissions. I can’t go on. It’s driving me crazy. I’ll kill myself. What’s the use of going on living? They won’t let me go. I can’t get away from them. I’ve gotten in so deep now that it would kill mother and dad to find out the truth. I hate and despise myself for what I’ve done.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“A swell exhibition of histrionics,” I told her. “But, don’t for God’s sake, go on a weeping spree in my room. All this is water under the bridge. I’m going to smash hell out of the gang and you’ll be out of it.”
“I’ll... I’ll kill myself if my name comes out in connection with the story.” She wiped her eyes and looked at me dully.
“If you’d been going to kill yourself you would have done it long ago,” I told her. “Run along home now, and sleep it off. Don’t worry about what you’ve told me. I won’t spill it to a soul.”
She wept some more and had a couple more drinks. I got rid of her as soon as I could, and went into 306.
Pete was there, with a stenographer and a notary public. They had a complete transcript of everything that had come over the dictograph, not excluding the things that had passed between Kitty and me before I cut the contraption off. I tore that part out and told Pete to put the rest of it in a sealed envelope in my file at the office. Then I caught a couple of hours sleep.
Chapter 15
I had Cherry on my mind when I woke up the next morning. Not that I wanted to have her on my mind. But I woke up thinking about her. Lay in bed and smoked two cigarettes while I kept on thinking about her.
It was a lousy mess that drew girls like Cherry, Janet, Kitty, Dolly, Lucile, and Jane into it. A filthy, stinking mess.
Thinking about Cherry in connection with it gave me the jimmies. There was something about that girl that didn’t fit into the picture. I smoked my cigarettes and tried to fit her in.
In the first place, I knew goddamned well she wasn’t weak. Not like the other women who got panicky after taking the first step. I couldn’t figure Cherry getting dragged into anything against her will.
I liked that thought. Dwelt on it for a time. I haven’t any use for weak women. Give me one that knows where she’s going, and goes there.
Still — it was damned nasty. I kept seeing Cherry’s gray eyes through the curling smoke. Sentimental? What man isn’t, lying in bed in the morning?
I didn’t have to dig down very far to know I could go for Cherry in a big way without half trying.
That made it tough. I was just about ready to crack down on the whole gang. A lot of people were going to get burnt when I cracked down. Cherry among them.
I figured on ways to keep her out of it. She didn’t seem to be in very deep. A hint dropped in her ear might be enough.
But that wouldn’t work either. I couldn’t see her taking a runout powder. I didn’t want to see her that way.
My thoughts went around in circles and didn’t get anywhere. What about the mysterious Sandra? I needed a line on her. Cherry had dropped a hint. That was all I had. Hints.
A woman at the top of it was hard to swallow. What sort of a female could she be? Plenty hard, evidently. I had a hunch Cherry knew more about her than she told me.
Just a hunch. Something in her eyes when she mentioned her. Under other circumstances I would have read it as jealousy. It didn’t add up that way.
And there was Blattscomb. What in hell was his card doing at Cherry’s place? How did he tie in? Checking things over, I saw I was walking a pretty shaky rope. Trying to be all things to all men wasn’t in my line. About a dozen different people had a dozen different stories from me. Sooner or later, two of them were going to get together and compare notes. It was going to be too bad for Mrs. Barlow’s only son when that happened.